


She

by DeeLatener



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Daddy Kink, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Het, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Graphic Violence, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeLatener/pseuds/DeeLatener
Summary: Credence afraid of only two things.To be useless for Mr. Graves.... And Her.You can read it on russian here - http://archiveofourown.org/works/8806474





	

**Author's Note:**

> AU with only Original Percival Graves. Grindelwald does not exist.
> 
> I apologize for any errors. Original language of text is russian. Text translated by google-translate and slightly fixed.  
> 

Credence feels the joy inside like a tiny firefly flashes. He stands in the dark, trying to become one of the dancing shadows on the wall and looks like Mr. Graves striding toward him, emerging from a cloud that moved the Apparition.  
Mr. Graves approaching, looks tenderly, touches the elbow to attract. He was glad they meet again, was waiting - Credence feels it. Or just really wants to believe it.  
But in the next instant ice grains slides under the skin. Mr. Graves' glance is full of hope: "I did not come in vain, my boy?" Credence feels monstrously useless, hates himself and his impotence because of it. Oh, he wanted to throw everything at the feet of Mr. Graves, the whole world, but even his first assignment has not complied, he absolutely nothing to please.  
Mr. Graves puts his hand on the back of Credence head, strokes his short strands of hair. They must be prickled his fingers a little. His hand is cold as if he had cradled the ice in it for a long.  
\- What's the news, Credence? - kindly asks Mr. Graves, and Credence feds back to snuggle closer with his nape to this strong broad palm, but almost immediately lowers his head, stick his edgy chin between the clavicles, trying to be as small as possible, slouchs. He looks with pain and regret and whispers with his cracked bitten lips:  
\- I still have not found him.  
For a moment Mr.Graves glance becomes scary, prickly, angry. It seems that he is about to smite. Credence instinctively recoils, pressed into the wall as a last defense. Graves immediately changes, pats on Credence's shoulder and gently persuasively whispers:  
\- My boy, we have so little time. Please, hurry. Believe me, if I could sneak himself in Salem, I would never have shouldered such a burden on you. I need your help, - there is so much hope and faith in his glance, that it becomes difficult to breathe, bitter taste comes in the throat, and eyes boils.  
\- I'll do anything, - Credence whispers passionately and strongly bites his lip. He feels a metallic taste and licks some ichor, flows from tiny cracks, like a snake can do. Everything is shaking inside of him.  
Mr. Graves's glance becomes disturbing. He caress Credence's lips with a cold finger. It starts to pinch a little, but soon it is passes. It must be, Mr. Graves recovered his lip with his magic.  
Credence looks away, he decided to ask about what was bothering him so much.  
\- This child ... What will happen when I find him?  
Mr. Graves smiles warmly, fingering his hair at the nape.  
\- Do not worry about anything, my boy. No one hurt him. I'll take care of him as well as I take care of you.  
Credence eyes filled with despair, he seemed to fall into a bottomless blackness and can not resist this. He throws back his head and briefly beating with it against the wall again and again.  
\- Take care of him ... care of him ... of him.., - he is like seized up, and he mumbles and mutters the same thing in different ways, he exhales with relief, whisperes sarcastically, painfully moans, cries in despair. His fingers nervously, frantically scratching the wall behind.  
\- Oh, my poor Credence, - voice exhales full of sympathy. Mr. Graves catches his hand, presses into its own. Overturns them and inspect.  
Credence winces, pulls them out of the hands of Mr. Graves and hides deep in the pockets of his coat. He does not want Mr. Graves had seen how he is weak.  
\- It is your mother did? - Mr. Graves's voice is heard loudly as through the water.  
Credence turns away, closes his eyes tightly, grits his teeth, breath shuddering.  
\- I fell, - says huskily if his throat was torn. - I'm clumsy.  
Credence shudders strongly, looking shocked at how carefully Mr. Graves brings his hands to his lips and kisses, healing the scars with his magic. Credence barely restrained not to cry - because of this heat and care.  
\- Please, - he breathes. - Can I look for the child in secret, and then come to you? I do not hesitate to you, Mr. Graves! I'll sleep on the floor or anywhere you please. And the rest of the time I will search ...  
Mr. Graves pats him on the head and gives him a chaste kiss on the forehead. Credence flashes and shy to raise his eyes, looks below the carefully shaven chin and next at the pair of scorpions in the corners of perfectly ironed and starched collar.  
\- You need to go home and continue the search. But when a child will be found, you will stay with me, - says Mr. Graves and adds firmly: - And I will never let her touch you.  
\- Please ... - faintly begs Credence. "Please do not let Her touch me anywhere."  
\- Credence ...  
"I hate Her! I hate ..."  
\- Do you hear me?  
\- Yes.

Credence comes home and from the threshold feels Her sight. Everything inside shrinks in horror, throat becomes corroded.  
\- You come too late, - She says sternly. - Ugly kid, - the last words she spoke breathlessly. Credence feels the recoil.  
\- Follow me, - there is an anticipation in Her voice and something nasty, disgusting ..! But he needs to pass this test, and all of them - for the sake of Mr. Graves. His Mr. Graves ...  
Modesty is sitting at the railing, embracing them and accompanies him with clear eyes.  
Credence quietly closes the door behind him, clinging deeper into the shadows, but does not expect mercy. She called him not to have mercy. She takes the rod and without turning requires:  
\- Closer.  
Credence did not dare to disobey and approaches. Raises his arms, palms up. She turns and looks at him the evil eye, piercing through the cold. It is a silent call. Credence begins to read aloud the poem that is so fond of Modesty. For each number in it he receives sharp stinging hit. The blood comes out of the hands, and She eagerly looking at the big shiny drops. Her nostrils flared, a thin film of sweat shines over the lip, Her cheeks covered feverish glow.  
Credence knows a little about Her youth. He knows only that She had suffered a lot from elder brother herown. But he can not stop hating Her.  
\- Come on, - She says dryly. - You know what to do.  
Credence looks down at the toes of Her modest shoes.  
\- Please, don't, - he asks softly. But again She hits his hand with the rod.  
\- Your daemon need to tame, miserable sodomite, - She spits bile and whips him over and over again, not figuring how strong. - I take care of all your filth.  
She falls into a rage, and he obeys. Unbutton his pants, lower a little.  
\- Begin, - she growls and looks grimace of hate and disgust. - A little beast, - She traces with burning eyes as he nervously fingering herself, pulls a wrinkled penis. He does not get up, no matter how he tries, and then She hits him again, weighed slap in the face, beat up as long as he does not understand: She wants him to falls.  
When he is on the floor, She kicks him violently again and again, and can not calm down for a long. And then She, exhausted, falls next to him and fumbles with hand - not dodge. Then clings his hair like a harpy and pulls him close, directs and then lifts up her skirts.  
\- Ugly ... how ugly you ... are ... - Her voice dropped.  
Credence thinking about Graves.  
When it ends, She pushes him away roughly.  
\- Get out, - She spits out in disgust.  
Credence snatchs his closes and dressed as fast as probably can't a soldier.  
He runs out of the room and faced with Modesty. Her clear eyes looked at him sadly, her plump lips are pursed. This view make him feels week, his hands shaking hard.  
Credence shies away from her and hides in his room. There he nipes into the corner, and rubs and rubs wounded hands. He thinks that Mr. Graves will not help him. He is a good person and wants to be the patron of the boy, who he was looking for. And Credence can be helped only by Credence. The fingers are compressed in a fist. Credence gives a promise that She would never do to him what was used to do. And if She try it again ...  
Shadows looms, dances and swirls around the hunched figure. Credence straightens his shoulders, looking ahead with whitened eyes, and the darkness around him becomes deeper and feels like a mother's embrace.


End file.
